100 Times
by Dragons and Otters
Summary: COMPLETE: Since she was five years old, Ginny Weasley has brushed her hair 100 times every night. On this night though, something changes. [warnings: torture, horror/creepy]
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Not sure what to say about this just yet...

* * *

Ginevra Weasley brushed her hair 100 times each night.

It all started when she was five years old. She'd gone with her family to visit her mother's father in St. Mungo's. He'd suffered on the wrong end of a Death Eater's wand during the first war and never fully recovered. He hadn't spoken or been very lucid in the years since.

Even at such a young age she knew that her grandfather didn't recognize her. Ginny stared in silent horror at the man drooling as he looked around at her family. He'd never truly met any of her siblings, and she was the youngest.

The Weasley family came once a year to visit, but this was the year her hair had grown past her shoulders. Her mother revered it and chastised her with threats to cut it all off when Ginny would throw fits over untangling spells. It was prettier hair than any of the other Prewitt or Weasley women had been blessed with in generations. Her grandfather was enamoured with it when she walked in, babbling in her direction the moment he set eyes on her. It frightened her, but her mother pushed her forward until she was close enough for him to touch. He grabbed the ends of her hair, and Ginny stilled in fear, her small brown eyes widening.

Arthur, Bill, and Charlie all moved at once toward her, but Molly stopped them with a harsh glare and a sharp swipe of her head. He twisted strands of her hair in his grasp, pulling her closer so he could smell it. Ginny closed her eyes tightly, trying not to gag at the smell of him.

The old man's eyes flicked up to his daughter standing close by. "Molly," he said, and his tone was full of awe. His eyes held more clarity than Ginny had ever seen in them.

Her mother sobbed loudly, frightening Ginny and her grandfather, who dropped the red hair in his grasp and pulled away. His eyes glazed over once more. The toddler turned and ran into her mother's arms, who was still crying.

Later, Molly pulled her daughter aside before she could step into the floo in St. Mungo's lobby. "Ginny," she said, grasping her daughter's shoulders tightly, "You take good care of that hair, you hear me? One-hundred strokes of your brush every night through that hair by hand, got it?"

Ginny looked up into her mother's gaze and nodded silently.

" _Every night_ ," her mother repeated, shaking Ginny slightly before letting go. "Now, back home and I'll whip us up some lunch, huh?" she said, assuming her usual chipper mother facade.

Her mother had affixed a small mirror to the wall in Ginny's bedroom at a height the girl could sit on the floor and see herself perfectly. They adjusted it as Ginny grew.

Now she sat on the floor of her room over Christmas break. It was sixth year, and things at Hogwarts had gone to hell. She hadn't been able to communicate with Harry, Hermione, or her brother since they left to hunt for horcruxes. But even if she had, she would've lied about what was happening at Hogwarts.

They couldn't do anything to help.

She looked at herself in the mirror, counting the strokes of her brush aloud as she always did. The sound of her voice kept her grounded as her mind traveled to far off places.

She remembered the countless times she sat at this mirror, brushing her hair, and recalled in vivid detail the event with her grandfather that had bred this little tradition. Ginny had enjoyed the ritual for years. It was calming, a small window of time she got to herself each day. But after her first year at Hogwarts, everything changed. She could barely look at herself in the mirror, and she found her mind going to darker and darker places as she stared at her reflection each night.

Something, though, had always pulled her mind back from the trenches. Bill would knock to ask how her day was. Charlie would bound up the stairs thinking he was quiet, cooing to and pleading with his newest baby dragon not to make any noise as he smuggled it into the house. Percy would recite facts to himself as he walked past her bedroom door. Fred and George would do something down the hall that caused a loud bang. Ron would swing by and ask her to settle an argument about an obscure Quidditch stat. Other times an owl from Harry or Hermione pecking at her window would bring her back to herself.

On this night, however, nothing happened.

"97…"

"98…"

"99…"

"100…"

 _Ginny, I've missed you._

She blinked, but still there was silence outside her bedroom. There was nothing at the window. There was no one coming. Ginny found her reflection once more in the mirror. The sadistic gleam she'd seen there before was gone.

But she still felt it simmering beneath her skin. Tom's voice was a whisper at the edges of her conscious.


	2. Chapter 2

School wasn't back in session for very long before the Carrows resumed their antics from the previous term. Older students were brought to the dungeons to practice torture spells on younger students. It was a wretched way to establish control.

It was Colin Creevey who had told them it didn't hurt nearly as bad when the good students were forced to torture fellow students. "It's true what they say, you have to _mean_ them," Colin said, his body still twitching from a session with Vincent Crabbe.

The knowledge didn't make the experience any less traumatizing, but it made the older students feel a little better in the aftermath.

Ginny's first go after the break came on an already bad day. She'd nearly gotten into a physical altercation with Pansy Parkinson over a comment about Harry. If McGonagall hadn't shown up when she did… well, Ginny still wasn't sure which option was truly worse. At least if she'd gotten a few good hits in on Parkinson, she could've had that bit of happiness to hold onto.

As it were, Ginny stood in front of a shaking first year. Only one of them held a wand, and only one of them was watching. The Carrows made the good students look at what they were causing, but the little ones — at least they were given the opportunity to close their eyes.

She felt as if her heart was shattering while she cast the curse, and she flinched when it made contact with the little boy.

The younger students had been told to _act_ like they were in immense and real pain when certain students were forced to torture them. They'd done a good job, but this boy was tired from the start, and Ginny could see that. He was a waif of a boy, and he reminded her a lot of a young Harry Potter — maybe he even looked worse than Harry did back then. She wanted to hold him, tell him it would be okay, get him to eat some food, maybe try to make him laugh. Instead, the Carrows watched in glee as she held the cruciatus curse on the boy.

Suddenly he collapsed, but he wasn't twitching. Ginny's curse had lasted consistently for nearly 10 minutes, but her torture had caused no lasting effects. He'd passed out from _exhaustion_ , not from unrelenting torture. Ginny just continued to stare at him, gasping for air as her chest heaved up and down. She could feel the Carrows moving from behind her. Amycus made his way toward the limp boy. He growled and shoved a foot into the boy's side. The young student barely moved.

"'E's jus' passed out," Amycus said, his tone thick and slow.

Ginny felt Alecto's wand dig into her throat. "What were you doing to him?"

"Well I'd have thought that was obvious," Ginny bit back, and her eyes rolled to the side so she could see the wand digging into her skin. Alecto pushed it against her neck harder, but Ginny didn't flinch.

"This dumb bint's been goin' easy on 'im!" Amycus said, turning to the women and pointing his wand at Ginny. The wizard kicked the young boy in the stomach but kept his wand trained on her.

Alecto moved her wand away from the red head's neck and stepped toward the boy. "CRUICIO!" she yelled, and the limp body came to life, seizing from the force of the curse.

"No!" Ginny screamed, drawing her wand even as Amycus' was still trained on her. "Crucio!" Ginny hissed, her wand pointing at Alecto. The DA had learned how to cast offensive spells while erecting a silent shield. They hadn't practiced using anything more than a disarming spell, but Ginny harnessed all of the energy she could to defend herself as she assaulted a "teacher," if you could really call either of the Carrows such.

It took Amycus five minutes before he could dismantle her shield, but when he did, the death eater took her out swiftly. Ginny could feel her side bursting open as she fell to her knees. Alecto straightened herself and hit Ginny with a second curse.

When she woke up, she was alone in the dungeons.

Well, almost alone.

 _You're so very powerful, Ginny,_ a familiar voice echoed in her head. _You held your own well. I knew you were special, even when you were a child. You've grown into a formidable witch._

Ginny got to her feet shakily and ran from the room, stumbling on the steps but pushing forward anyway. She darted into the closest bathroom and was sick the moment she reached the sink.

When she was able to stop retching, she turned the sink on and cupped her hands under the flowing water. Ginny cleaned her mouth and wet her clammy forehead before looking into the mirror. She jumped when she saw someone behind her in the reflection.

" _You again_ ," Moaning Myrtle said, rolling her eyes and turning around to go back to her toilet before Ginny could answer — which was fine because Ginny was suddenly finding it very hard to breathe.

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 **A/N:** Thank you to those who read the first chapter! I'm glad to see people liked this dark little idea that twisted itself into my brain. I'm not sure how often I'll be updating this as my focus is supposed to be on a different multi-chapter I'm working on. However, I have a couple of other chapters outlined and an end in mind for this story so there will be more periodically as I need creative breaks from my main story. [one and only warning] "100 Times" won't be a happy story nor will it have a happy ending. There's a little chapter aesthetic on my tumblr at dragonsandotters - dh if that's your thing.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Well, I lied. The last chapter won't be your one and only warning. Since it's been a minute since I've last updated this story I would like to reiterate — THIS IS NOT A HAPPY STORY! Read at your own risk.

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Something changed one Sunday as Ginny sat on her bed in the Room of Requirement, the curtains closed around her for privacy. As she brushed her hair, counting each stroke, she stared absentmindedly into a mirror she'd charmed to hover in front of her.

At first, she was busy with thoughts of exams she had to study for still, and that she didn't have time for this. But Ron had gone off again with Harry and Hermione; Bill was still struggling; Charlie had come back to England to help the war efforts; and Percy still hadn't come back around, the prat. She knew her mother had plenty to worry about without Ginny doing something petty like cut her hair.

But _fuck_ she wanted to.

Tom hadn't stopped visiting her since that night at the Burrow. Sometimes his presence was calming, like when she was under the cruciatus curse and he somehow curbed the pain, and sometimes he scared her, like when he tried to give her advice about how to get revenge on the Carrows. She wondered if he was always there, just beneath the surface, or if something she was doing calls him to her. How much of it was real? Was she just going completely mental?

Her thoughts wandered to Colin Creevey, who had just been sent to the hospital wing for prolonged exposure to the torture curse. She was worried about him and the rest. The Room of Requirement was having to grow by the day as students sought refuge from the Carrows.

Getting closer and closer to 100, Ginny felt her arm start to get tired and her eyelids grew heavier. She was so exhausted, but there was still so much to be done.

As she fought to stay awake, she felt a sudden blinding pain surge through her. Tom was loud as he filled her mind, and she was lightheaded from the strength of his intrusion.

She bit through her tongue, and warm, wet blood filled her mouth as tears dripped down her cheeks. The corners of Ginny's mouth shook upward, though she had no control over them, and as she stared into her reflection in the mirror, all she could see was Tom in her eyes.

Ginny felt the full power of Tom Riddle's imprint on her soul. He could move her face, cause her hands to shake, tap her feet.

She tried to resist.

Adrenaline coursed through her, and she forced Tom back, grabbing her wand while keeping her eyes on her own warped reflection in the mirror. She watched as Tom winced when she sliced her hair magically, bringing it to a length just above her shoulders.

Blood dribbled down her chin as the hair fell away, and she shook the remaining strands out.

Ginny continued to overpower Tom and aggressively wiped the blood from her mouth, cleaning the rest with a charm.

She gingerly fingered her shortened strands with awe. It looked _awesome_.

Her mum was going to absolutely lose it, but Ginny felt powerful.

And Tom was quiet.

For now.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** I thought it would be nice, given how creepy this story is, to complete it on Halloween. So, here we are. FINALLY. I hope you enjoy it, even though it's weird as hell. Lol.

* * *

 _Four years later_

Ginny startled awake, but when her eyes shot open she wasn't looking up at the ceiling as she expected.

Instead, she was looking down at the bed she shared with Harry. She could see herself wrapped around The Chosen One as he slept peacefully.

But her image flickered in and out, her body morphing into something sharp and chiseled. Her long red hair shortened into thick black locks, and when the body lying in bed met her gaze, it wasn't her own reflection staring back at her.

Tom Riddle's dark red eyes held the hint of a smirk, as she gasped at the sight of his pale, gaunt skin stretched tight over the bones of his face — her face.

He looked back to her boyfriend, and her heart leaped uncomfortably in her throat as she felt Tom's rage fill the marrow of her bones, his hatred toward her boyfriend drowning her mouth with the coppery taste of blood.

She watched helpless as Tom's bony fingers raked across Harry's scalp. She swore she could actually taste blood, and then Tom's tongue flicked out from his mouth, it was unnaturally long, ripped down the middle like a snake's. He licked at the nape of Harry's neck, and all she felt was anger boiling inside of her.

When she looked down at the scene, she could see Tom's saliva glistening against Harry's neck, but when she looked through Tom's eyes, she saw blood boiling from the path his tongue had forged along Harry's skin.

She screamed, but Tom's mouth stayed firm, his lips curling into a sneer, revealing his ghostly white teeth stained red with blood.

Ginny jolted awake once more, frantically grasping at the sheets below her. She turned to Harry, who was still fast asleep.

Carefully, Ginny slipped from the bed and tiptoed into the bathroom. Her hands shook as she turned the faucet and watched water pool into the sink. She looked at her reflection in the mirror as she tried to steady her breathing.

Ginny splashed cold water on her face, but she still felt only half herself despite the tingling of her skin. Her image in the mirror flickered as it had in her dream, in and out, Tom taking her place for seconds at a time. She could feel him inside her, feeding off her consciousness, gaining control over her senses.

He'd been coming back in dreams lately. She'd stupidly thought she'd banished him that night in the Room of Requirement. After all, shortly thereafter, Harry had defeated him and all was well.

When the dreams started weeks ago, Ginny had tried to ignore them. But she could feel Tom inside of her stronger than ever.

She walked back into the bedroom and knelt at the bedside next to Harry. Her eyes roved over his face, stopping for a moment at the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. Tears welled up in her eyes because she knew — she knew it was over. Something inside of her was desperately trying to get out, and she wasn't strong enough to keep it at bay. Harry's scar usually made her swell with pride at his achievements. Sometimes it drowned her in sorrow, reminding her of all that they'd lost. Now she stared at it and felt Tom's need for revenge. Tom's desperation to feel Harry's heartbeat sputtering until it pumped life into him for the very last time overwhelmed her.

Ginny was powerful, but it was that very thing on which Tom fed mercilessly.

She sobbed as the pads of her fingertips traced the indents of skin on Harry's forehead, and she stumbled back when he yelped at her touch.

 **OOO**

His wide green eyes searched her as she sat on the ground helplessly, tears falling freely down her cheeks. Harry touched his scar. It hadn't hurt him since the Battle of Hogwarts — until now.

The jolt of pain had washed over him, pulling him angrily from sleep. "What the hell was that?"

"It's me," Ginny whispered in disgust, staring at her hands as if they were horrid creatures.

"Ginny?" He slipped from the bed and sat across from her on the floor, pulling her into his embrace.

She shook her head violently, and he fought her, trying to comfort her. "Tell me what's wrong."

"It's him!" Her voice came out a wail, and the sound sent shock through his brain. Harry wasn't used to his strong, independent girlfriend crying.

"Who? Him who?"

"You-Know-Who!" she responded, bitterness dripping from her teeth.

Harry stood, bringing Ginny up with him so he could stare into her eyes. "It can't be."

Ginny shook her head, unable to meet his gaze. "He's inside of me, his soul...it's —" She grasped her Holyhead Harpies T-shirt as if she could rip him out by ripping it from her body.

"No - no!" Harry said desperately. "We destroyed that piece of his soul remember? A long time ago. We'll get you to a mind healer in the morning. It will be okay!"

"NO!" Ginny's voice caught on a sob, and his heart broke at the sight. He desperately wanted to make it better for her. "You're - you're not safe around me, Harry, please."

"Please what? What can I do?"

"You have to kill me."

"What? No! Ginny, that's mental," he grasped her shoulders like he was going to shake her. "We can destroy it. There's got to be another way."

"I thought it - I thought - it should have stopped when…" She sniffled, wiping furiously at her nose. "When you killed him once and for all."

Harry stilled. "How long has this been going on?"

She met his eyes finally, and he wasn't sure what he saw there. He could definitely see his girlfriend, her fire, but it was corrupted, cold, calculating. He felt lightheaded, nauseous. "Since last summer when you, Ron, and Hermione left to find the rest of the horcruxes. I — it was so subtle at first, I thought I was just crazy. He only came to me in glimpses or after … after the Carrows would…"

Harry brushed the tears from her cheeks, but her skin was cold and slick. He tried not to recoil when he realized it reminded him of snake scales. "Ginny, you're so strong," he said in an attempt to sooth her. "You can beat him. You did it last time."

"I didn't! You did! And you have to this time, Harry, please." She grabbed his hands desperately, begging him. Her eyes were locked onto his, and he couldn't move, couldn't breathe. A chill blossomed inside his mind, freezing the edges of his thoughts. "Kill me. Kill him!"

Different voices swirled in Harry's brain, but he couldn't focus on any specific one. He felt the tug of magic leading him, but he couldn't infer what had been done to him. He swayed on his feet until his eyes locked on Ginny's. One last independent thought sprang to his lips.

"The horcrux in me… When I took the killing curse willingly, it killed the dark magic in me. You can come back. You'll come back!"

Tears clouded Ginny's eyes as he tried to reassure her that this would work out. But some part of him was reassuring himself while the other moved of its own accord.

"Please don't cry," he whispered as he reached for his wand on the bedside table. He could feel something inside of him, urging him on, and he couldn't stop himself. Ginny's commands echoed incessantly in his mind — kill her, kill him, kill her, kill him.

Kill her.

Kill him.

"I love you," she said, and he shook his head.

"Don't say that. I'll see you on the other side," he responded, but the voice didn't sound like his.

Kill her.

Kill him.

Kill her.

" _Avada Kedavra!"_

Ginny screamed as the jet of green light hit her, but Harry could hear Tom Riddle's voice mixed in as the life drained from his girlfriend, and she fell to the floor.

Seconds ticked by, and Harry wouldn't let himself feel the fear that swirled inside of him as he waited.

But the longer she lay there lifeless, his mind became clearer until he finally realized what he had done.

"GINNY! NO!" He fell to the ground beside her and scooped up her limp body in his strong arms, tears brimming in his eyes. He screamed until his throat split and the sound turned into wracking sobs as he cradled his girlfriend and rocked her. "You have to wake up, Ginny! GINNY!"

And that's how the Aurors found them hours later. Harry swaddling the dead body of Ginny Weasley, screaming and sobbing and demanding that she come back to him.

One later recalled Harry screaming Ginny's name 100 times before he lost count.


End file.
